


Slick's Squad - Jester's Story

by Reulte



Series: Slick's Squad [3]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-02-15 13:03:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2230029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reulte/pseuds/Reulte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Slick's treason on Christophsis, Jester asks to stay with the 212th to rebuild the honor of the squad and prove that the troopers are not all traitors.</p><p> </p><p>This is the third of Slick's Squad series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So we begin Jester's story; how he fared from being part of Sergeant Slick's squad, his path from Christophsis to post-Order 66.
> 
> This story is interwoven with the other 'Slick's Squad' stories. It has appeared on Fanfiction.net as has Chopper's story.
> 
> Disclaimer: Star Wars: The Clone Wars belongs to George Lucas and/or Disney as does the episode 'The Hidden Enemy'. I receive no monetary compensation, only the pleasure of writing and sharing my opinions of what might have occurred. Mostly within cannon for the first 3 seasons (because I still have not seen the remaining seasons).

**Christophsis – The Hidden Enemy**

"Where are they, Jester?" Slick's voice was low and somber but Jester began shaking, the gun rag tightly gripped in his hand, his fingers white as he scoured the barrel of his blaster with jerky strokes.

"M-me-me," Jester began but Slick cut Jester's stuttered word with his own harsh voice.

"Hurry up, Jester, I don't have all day." The sergeant's aggravation was evident.

"Me-mess." The word rushed out of Jester. "Mess, s-sir."

"Very good," Slick smiled though his eyes were cold. "I knew you could do it, Jester."

He spoke as though Jester was a backwards cadet and Jester, red with shame, bowed his head to stare angrily at the black metal of his blaster under his fingers.

This stuttering was new, within the last few days. If he had ever stuttered on Kamino, it would have meant reconditioning. Jester forced himself to breathe evenly. His fingers stopped shaking and his movements became smooth on the blaster though his thoughts were still in turmoil.

After a moment, Slick turned and left their barracks. Jester had no doubt there was a smug smile on his lips but he hadn't glanced up to see. As the door closed behind Slick, Jester sobbed and leaned his forehead against the barrel of his deece.

_What had happened? What was happening?_

Coming out of Kamino Jester had been fourth of the six-man electronics specialty squad. Sketch had been the best of them with the highest cumulative scores of the entire squad and he was, declared their trainer, destined for great things. Sketch's brother-by-choice, Punch was almost as good and had the knack of picking up what a sergeant's second would know simply in anticipation of Sketch becoming a sergeant. Sketch laughingly always said the reason he was so good was to keep ahead of Punch.

Sketch didn't laugh as much anymore, Gus said humor wasn't a quality of a good trooper though everyone knew the words had come straight from Sergeant Slick.

Zev had been third, but he had died the first day, not even stepping on Christophsis itself but snipered as they arrived and falling from the LAAT to land in a crumpled heap of shattered, shiny armor. That had hurt, Jester and Zev had occasionally comforted each other; sometimes as lovers but more usually by simply touching or talking until long after 'lights out'. Jester regretted Zev's death far more for the friend than for the lover.

Then came Jester, fourth slot with his scores all over the place; sometimes top marks, sometime earning a frown from the trainers but a decent average. Jester always comforted himself with the thought that he hadn't pushed himself to do his best all the time.

Twenty-three had been a new addition shortly before they departed Kamino. He was a sullen, taciturn, scarred survivor and they hadn't accurately figured his placement before being assigned to Christophsis but he'd seen battle and occasionally offered good advice in spite of being quiet so they put him ahead of Gus. He was fifth slot until the death of Zev when he'd moved up to fourth and Jester to third.

Gus had been last man. Certainly acceptable – he had passed all the tests Kamino gave – but not quite as sharp as the rest of them.

Jester thought that was ok, no one could always be better than everyone else. For all the emphasis the trainers had put on their scores, the differences between them were miniscule. And, what was a squad for if not to cover for each other?

Twenty-three had moved into third slot easily enough after a week on Christophsis; he had experience and his hesitation disappeared in battle.  Jester thought that if the quiet trooper had tried, he would have been first or second man but Twenty-three didn't put himself between Sketch and Punch. For a short time, the squad thought first Sketch then Twenty-three or maybe Punch would make the best second to their new sergeant. All three clones were superlative troopers though in different ways. But, somehow, Gus had been chosen.

Jester grimaced, his fingers slowing in their long strokes on the weapon. Somehow, that hadn't been right and Jester couldn't figure out why Sergeant Slick had chosen Gus. Sergeant's second was always the sergeant's choice but you wanted someone to look out for the troopers also. You wanted someone you could trust to get you out of tight spots, someone who would and could back you up. You wanted someone almost as good as your sergeant and that wasn't Gus.

Inspecting his blaster, Jester gave a nod as his lips tightened. There'd be no demerit for a dirty blaster this time. It was the first thing he did now, coming back from any type of battle or even just his daily rounds. Making sure his blaster was clean and ready for the next battle was his priority; before going to the mess, before sleep, before a visit to the head. Jester hadn't been wounded yet but if he were, he'd still clean his blaster before going to medical. Sometimes he had odd dreams of getting wounded and reaching for his blaster shouting, 'Wait, wait! I have to clean the blaster first!' as he bled over the white armor of the others. Odd dreams, though nothing like, and far better than, Twenty-three's nightmares.

Setting the weapon aside, not just on the bunk but in its case and inspection-ready, Jester cleaned up his equipment then glanced around his bunk for anything out of place; anything Sergeant Slick might decide required a demerit. Stretching the muscles of his neck and shoulders, Jester decided that he wasn't hungry but caf sounded good. He'd probably be at a table by himself. The other troopers of the 212th didn't appear to be very friendly – not like it had been back in the barracks on Kamino with everyone eager and interested in new brothers and information. But maybe it was just that they'd lost only enough troopers to need replacements from Kamino and were already in groups of friends.

Or maybe it was just him they avoided.

The thought hit Jester as he walked the corridor to the mess and he paused, staring down the metal plates that substituted for a floor.

Sergeant Slick spent most of his time bringing Commander Cody up to what had been going on for the past months.  Punch and Sketch usually had opposite schedules and spent any free time together. They rarely welcomed intruders when they sat together in the mess, Twenty-three spent a lot of time doing extra duty for demerits and what the Sergeant called 'wasting time with inappropriate ideas' though Jester thought some of them were brilliant. When he wasn't standing extra duty, he sat alone in the back corner of the mess and that was where troopers went when they didn't want to be disturbed. Gus was usually shadowing Sergeant Slick or simply overseeing the troopers in Slick's stead. There wasn't a word he spoke that hadn't already been voiced by Sergeant Slick. Sometimes Jester wondered if Gus had a voice anymore.

Maybe the other troopers of the 212th did avoid him; he could see how Slick's squad might be seen as wanting privacy.  Jester decided he'd ask one or two. He'd ask if they were avoiding him and the squad or did it just seem that way; and if they were avoiding him, then why? Maybe it was just something as innocuous like timing or thinking someone else had made friendly overtures.

As he made his way to the mess with curiosity burning in him to know the answer to his query, the new commander of the 212th gave orders over his helmet's comm unit. "Slick's squad, report immediately to quarters."

Rumor had it that Christophsis wasn't proceeding as quickly the Senate wished. Jester could have told them it was because they hadn't had a commander or captain, both troopers killed before he and the others had arrived, and their Jedi general hadn't really understood how military operations should go or how to inspire human troopers; how they'd only been a security force for the refugee camp with no clear-cut battlefield orders. Now they had a new and human Jedi general as well as a brother clone commander. Jester was optimistic that things would change very soon.

The planned attack from the two towers had been a good plan and only bad luck had ruined it. Although seeing the tactical droid on the roof had made Jester's mind pause and take another turn. Seeing that droid as Twenty-three tackled and rip off its head had whispered something in the back of Jester's mind.

It wasn't a good whisper, either.

Jester sighed and turned back towards the barracks. No caf or answers just yet. He hoped it wouldn't take too long – whatever it was the new commander wanted. More importantly, he hoped he could stay out of notice.

While Jester was glad they'd gotten a good commander, Sergeant Slick had told him Commander Cody was already going through trooper records, preparing to cull the _k'atinis_ from the 212th. Slick's measured look at Jester said he expected Jester to be one of the culls.

Jester wondered what happened to the inferior troopers. Were they sent back to Kamino for reconditioning? Given additional training? Sent off to another – less exacting – commander, someone with more lenient standards? Jester wondered when he'd gone from being third to being last in the squad; from being acceptable to being cull-worthy.

That had been the day he had started stuttering.

Not wanting to be the first trooper in the room under the exacting eyes of Commander Cody, Jester moved slowly down the hall back to the barracks. Unusually, Twenty-three.., Jester shook his head; he had named himself Chopper not too long ago. Chopper was first back and gave Jester a nod. Jester gave him a tentative half-smile; it appeared Chopper was in a – for him – good mood. He usually was when he took a souvenir and this time he'd gotten a droid head. Not that he'd been able to keep _that_ but it had been a magnificent move and Jester knew he'd also gotten something else.

There was a slight, contemptuous snort behind Jester and he slowed even more, allowing sergeant's second to move ahead of him.

Gus was no better than he'd been back on Kamino; when had he become better than Jester?

With a defeated sigh, Jester moved behind Gus and caught the movement of Punch and Sketch as they fell in behind him, not caring where they ended in the line of clones as long as they were together.

"No way they're capable of something like this." Sergeant Slick was speaking to Commander Cody and Captain Rex of the 501st, his voice pleading. The two officers had stern, hard faces

This didn't look good but it didn't seem like a conversation about winnowing the troops.

"Something like what?" Gus interrupted, as if he was a sergeant in his own right.

Slick glanced at the men of his squad. "You called them here?"

"Of course we did. We're getting to the bottom of this. Now." That was Captain Rex, head of the 501st and already developing into a legend among the clones after the tactics at Anoth and Bakura. He sounded like a hard trooper and Jester was sure there were no inferior clones in his company.

"Look, let me have a few minutes with them first. It's going to hit them hard…" Slick said in a low voice that went quieter.

"I don't think that's necessary. Your men are tough, right?" Commander Cody walked the line of men and Jester froze for a moment. Maybe it _was_ about culling unacceptable troopers. He could feel his heart race. He'd been good once; the bad scores had been because he'd gotten bored with training, because he was trying new and different tactics in the relative safety of training instead of waiting until he was actually in the field. He was good on the battlefield; he'd point that out to Commander Cody and ask – beg – for another chance. He wanted a good commander and Cody was reputed to be one of the best.

"Take a seat, gentlemen."

Jester, terrified as the Commander's eyes moved over him, moved to his bunk. He'd feel safer with his back against the wall. It wouldn't help if he was being culled but he'd _feel_ safer.

"We have a turncoat in our midst," said Cody, "and we think it's one of you."

Jester looked down at the cement floor as he rubbed one hand over his other. That couldn't be right, Jester's brows drew down and his hand ached. He'd been fighting the wall again yesterday, not understanding why Slick had taken them to some makeshift civilian bar and done what he'd done to Chopper.

 _A turncoat? A traitor?_ That didn't make any sense but at least it wasn't about being culled. Jester thought it through. A traitor? Not Sketch or Punch because then there'd be two traitors and you couldn't keep secrets like that. Not Chopper, for all that he was hurt and angry and picked up a few metal bits from the battlefield. Certainly not him. And that left only Gus or…

Jester glanced up, wondering what Slick's expression was and started in surprise when it was the captain of the 501st standing in front of him with Commander Cody at his side; both clones looking at him with harsh expectation.

"I… I don't know. I was doing the things I always do after a mission." Jester's right hand rubbed over his left fist as that stutter escaped. His hand hurt more than it should, more than the other times and he wondered if he should have seen one of the medics, wondered how many bones he'd broken this time.

"Things like what?" Rex stared at him. It was like staring into a mirror after battle. No mercy, no quarter; the captain's pupils were angry pinpricks in the brown of his eyes.

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm just a little nervous." His eyes slid to the commander in dented armor with scratched yellow marks, marks Jester admired because they meant experience. "You're my C.O."

"Well, way I figure it, you tell the truth you've got nothing to be nervous about." The 501st captain's logic was reasonable, but Jester knew he'd stutter the next word and he pressed his lips tightly together.

Sergeant Slick yelled at him for the stutter. What would an angry captain do? What would his new commander do?

He'd be culled, rejected, and sent back to Kamino for sure.

"Jester is telling the truth." Sketch broke in and Jester almost passed out in relief.

"He cleans his weapon after every mission," Sketch continued. "First thing, every time. He's kind of obsessed that way."

"Is that right? You were cleaning your weapon?" asked Cody. He looked almost kind.

"Yes sir." Jester nodded as a knot in his throat loosened and his shoulders relaxed.

"Go on the computer while you were in here?" That was Cody again and it was a simple question. Cody waited for his answer.

"No sir. I didn't even power it up." Jester gestured vaguely toward the machine without moving his eyes from Commander Cody's face. "You can check."

_Don't cull me! Please, give me a chance._

"Show me your weapon," commanded Cody, holding out his hand and Jester confidently lifted the battle-ready blaster for inspection. Cody ran his fingers over the barrel.

Jester polished his blaster constantly. He had received a demerit for a dirty weapon from Slick almost as they'd left the battlefield, then another for insubordination when he had questioned the demerit. Commander Cody wouldn't find a dirty weapon.

"Yep. Freshly scrubbed." Cody glanced at Rex.

"The rag's over there in the corner." Jester gave a nod of his head toward the rag bin.

"Good man." said Cody as he handed back the weapon and Jester straightened at the praise, ready to follow this commander where ever he led.

Cody turned from Jester toward Punch and Sketch. "You, you were cleaning your weapon too?" He had gestured at Punch.

"No, I was hungry. I went back to the mess." Punch replied almost insolently.

Jester realized his questions were done for the moment though he knew there would be more until the traitor was discovered. They had to be wrong about a traitor in the squad and that would mean more questions, more details to go over.

Slick's interruption caught Jester's attention. "Captain, give me just a moment with them."

Jester frowned; that wasn't something Slick would normally say.

"No, it's okay sarge." Gus shifted slightly. "I've got nothing to hide. I was in the infirmary. Got banged up pretty good by one of those clankers. Med droid was fixing me up."

Jester shook his head. First Punch then Gus showing no respect to either the Commander or the Captain. He wanted to explain that their informality came from Sergeant Slick usually being informal around his squad but Jester remembered that Slick was never informal with him. Slick was strict in the rules with him, with Chopper; sometimes with Sketch and sometimes not. He was only relaxed and informal with his second and with Punch; sometimes with Sketch but Sketch couldn't count on it and had learned to never be relaxed around the sergeant.

Cody and Rex moved in front of Chopper on his rack. Chopper had one leg on his bunk, one on the floor, his head slightly down with that blank expression on his face, leaning against the wall… waiting, like so often, for a demerit.

"So, Chopper, old boy…"

Jester frowned as the 501st captain used Slick's favorite words. _Don't do that, Captain_ , whispered Jester, although possibly only in his own mind.

"I was in the mess hall."

Jester knew Chopper spent every off-duty moment in the mess except when he wandered into the barracks late to roll into his rack. Chopper avoided them all, especially Sergeant Slick, particularly after the incident at the bar.

"No, you weren't!" The outburst was from Sketch and Jester stood in surprise then realized Chopper would have been doing something with his new acquisition.

"You…I mean… you." Sketch stood and he looked almost apologetically at Chopper because they all knew what Chopper must have been doing. Chopper's acquisitions were no secret among the squad.

Chopper sighed. "I was hiding at the south exit. I didn't want anyone to see me string these together." He pulled the fingers from edge of bunk, three droid fingers strung on a wire.

Jester's heart twisted, as it did every time he knew Chopper had collected something else from the battlefield. What did Chopper gained from those small trinkets? Chopper gazed into the eyes of the command clones and Jester thought his face relaxed, that he was finally going to explain.

"I always knew there was something deficient about you." For a moment Jester thought it had been Slick speaking, but it was Gus.

Chopper's lips became a tight line as he turned from his rack, away from the others and set his feet to the floor. He sat on the edge of his bunk. Jester could see the side of his jaw grind in angry frustration.

"This isn't good, Chopper." Slick took a step toward Chopper and Jester stared at the sergeant, some half-hidden thought in his mind trying to be noticed. Slick sounded extraordinarily pleased.

Jester saw and knew, with terrible trepidation, how it would play out. He shook his head but no one was watching him as the drama with Chopper played on. While he knew Chopper wasn't the traitor, it was nothing he could prove.

"…taking forbidden items from a battlefield." Slick paused and Jester knew he was choosing his words with care. "I know. I put up with the attitude because you have skill."

Jester took a step forward wanting to do something. Gus, staring at Chopper, had an expression of arrogant disgust, Punch one of pity and Sketch one of pain. Jester could tell from the purr in his voice that there was triumphant satisfaction on Slick's face and he suddenly realized who the traitor was. Suddenly realized why experienced Chopper received the most demerits and punishment duties, suddenly realized why the brothers Sketch and Punch had different schedules, suddenly realized why he stuttered, and suddenly pitied Gus more than anyone he could think of, even poor dead Zev.

A clone trooper worried about what he was doing wrong wouldn't be looking at someone else. Slick had made his actions invisible to his squad.

"…your whole character's in question here," Slick continued.

"Wait, no. Hang on. I'm no spy!" Chopper faced his commander and Jester wanted Cody to listen. He wanted to say something but his voice wouldn't work. Jester's stutters had lodged in his throat and wouldn't leave his mouth.

Then Chopper spoke again, facing the sergeant. "Maybe you should talk, sir. Tell them where you went." Chopper said, confronting Slick. Slick's expression showed his surprise and Jester wondered why Slick was so shocked then remembered that Chopper had stopped showing Slick how good he really was when his only reward was extra duty.

Jester remembered the last time Chopper had shown how good a trooper he was when he won against Slick and the rest of the squad.

" _It's just a friendly sparring match among the squad," Slick had said and they'd taken him at his word. The sergeant was good but not the best. In the end, it was Chopper and Sketch battling it out for supremacy with Chopper finally getting the definitive upper hand. He had smiled and promised everyone a rematch during their next training session with a rare, anticipatory chuckle. Yet before the end of the day, he'd receive three demerits from Sergeant Slick. It was one of the few conversations Chopper initiated with the squad._

" _I don't think the sergeant likes being beaten." Then he'd pulled on his bucket and gone on to his punishment of night duty guarding the trash behind the kitchens from scavengers, both human and animal._

"Sergeant!" It was Commander Cody's voice with sharp scrutiny and Jester blinked as the past faded into the present.

"What did you mean, 'till the Jedi come back'?" Cody asked in hard speculation. "How did you know the Jedi were gone?

"I really wish you hadn't noticed that, sir." Slick's voice was soft and genuinely regretful. Jester didn't see what happened, but Sergeant Slick was over the bunk and out the door while both Commander Cody and Chopper were reeling back.

"It's Slick?"

"Slick's the traitor?"

Commander Cody and Captain Rex rushed out the door after Slick, and Jester realized the stuttered words no longer stuck in his throat.

Everything between all of them had changed in that instant. Gus kept looking at Chopper, confusion and guilt in his eyes. Punch opened his mouth wanting to say something, but always letting his mouth close because there was nothing to say.

"No one else knows yet." Jester's voice was soft, his hand rubbing over his fist. It hurt but maybe it wasn't as broken as he thought; maybe he wasn't as broken as he thought. He'd go to medical first thing this was all done and tell them he'd been beating a stone wall with his fist.

Maybe none of the squad was irredeemably broken.

Technically, he was the least of the squad, last among equals.  But everything had just gone confused, like in battle when someone crucial died and some other clone had to take his place yet lacking some vital piece of information. The all looked shell-shocked. Still, Jester gave them the opening to lead.

Sketch supplied another thought. "Slick might…" Sketch raised his hands understanding the chaos that could ensue if Slick wasn't immediately captured and neutralized. Jester thought his next words might be some order and he was prepared to follow Sketch, prepared to say 'yes, sir, squad leader Sketch'. But Sketch only stared at Punch.

After a few moments of silent shock in the barracks, Jester spoke up. "Gus." Jester called his attention away from Chopper as he found some words. "I'll tell the deck officer about Slick. You and Chopper follow the commander and captain to assist as necessary. They won't need to explain anything to you."

Both Chopper and Gus nodded then moved out the barracks at his order.

Jester turned to Sketch and Punch. "Sketch, Punch, go to the mess and ask around; see if anyone has seen Slick, where he might be headed. But keep what happened quiet." Then Jester grabbed his helmet and was out the door giving them no chance to object to his orders.

 


	2. Board of Inquiry

Jester's eyes stung as he sat at the table in front of the Board of Inquiry and he took a moment to compose both his thoughts and his words. His right hand lightly rubbed over the flex-cast of his left. They'd been interviewing him for several hours and the formality of the occasion had been worn away by hard emotion and the seriousness of the situation, by the intimacy of the questions.  He'd gone from 'CT-4646' or 'trooper' to 'Jester'.

It was almost over.

"It wasn't right, Commander. Not what he did. But we didn't…" Jester spread his hands, nearly knocking over the water glass in his anxiety, and shook his head. "I don't want to say we didn't know better, but it all started being good advice and quoted rules"

He glanced up into Commander Cody's face; it was hard and stern as he tried to remain impartial but Slick had been his sergeant. Never mind that Cody had only arrived a short time ago; he had personally vetted his sergeants and Slick had passed Commander Cody's interview. That would be bitter for the commander.

"Then it got hard." Jester glanced down at the table and ran his thumbs along the edge of it trying to remember a good example and found one. "Like when Punch requested some gear repair training he had missed on Kamino. It was denied." Jester licked his lips but didn't miss the Commander's eyes widen slightly in surprise then his face tightened another increment in angry disbelief. Jester thought that was good; Cody seemed to be the type of commander who encouraged maintaining certifications and cross-training.

"According to Slick, by Regulation 4.13.4, he'd been assigned and so had not missed any training because the regs said he wouldn't have been assigned without the training. When Punch asked the sergeant to help him fix the lateral gyroscope in his deece, the sergeant quoted regulation 8.83.73 sub a – 'all troopers shall be solely responsible for their gear'. He forbade any of us to fix the 'scope for Punch. Later, he got dinged for it."

Jester glanced at the civilian Prince Organa then General Kenobi, noting their slightly confused expressions. "That is, Punch received a demerit, for having a broken lateral gyroscope." Jester shrugged. "Which hadn't actually affected his targeting anyway so Slick would have had no way of knowing it was broken if Punch hadn't told him earlier."

"Fascinating," said General Kenobi, his fingers stroking his beard. Jester noted it was the same color as a clone's eyes. "What happened?"

"Sir?" Jester tipped his head to one side, wondering exactly what the general was asking, what specific part of everything that had happened did he want to know.

"About the lateral gyroscope," clarified the General. "Was it ever fixed? If so, how? Did Punch receive further demerits?" He didn't ask if Slick objected to sending his men into danger with insufficient equipment. That had been established early in the interview.

"Oh," Jester leaned back a bit in the chair, sitting straighter. "Chopper's deece developed a broken 'scope also. I think he did it on purpose." Jester gave a shrug and almost smiled. " When he fixed it, he called Punch over to watch him fix it. He didn't say a word beyond 'Punch, come here'." Jester gave a slight grin. "In front of Slick. Chopper liked to outthink Slick." His face fell. "Not that it helped; he got two demerits later in the day. Chopper, not Punch."

General Kenobi nodded thoughtfully, his forehead furrowed. Senator-Prince Organa's face was drawn and he was shaking his head sorrowfully. Commander Cody only stared forward, a gaze above Jester's head, with his lips tightly compressed. Captain Rex, his face a medley of mottled bruising, had narrowed eyes, staring at Jester. His face, behind the battle-marks, was angrily tight; he'd lost too many men on Teth.

Jester was concerned that Captain Rex would make it hard for him. Captain Rex hurt for his lost men on Teth and he wanted someone to take his anger on, someone he could beat with his fists until the pain went away. Jester hoped the captain could be fair in spite of his suffering; he'd given himself enough of a handicap with his hand.

General Kenobi gestured lightly at Jester and he felt _something_ , like a quiet breeze, brush along his wounded hand. "The medics didn't approve of your broken hand and specifically requested we question you about it." He shifted in his chair. "In fact, they said they wouldn't certify you as battle-ready until I or Commander Cody overrode their recommendation to return you to Kamino."

Jester bowed his head in shame. Self-destructive behavior was highly discouraged on Kamino, punishable by reconditioning or, more likely, flash-drill retraining.

"So much didn't make sense," Jester glanced at his left hand where a thin flex-cast curled around his hand and wrist. "I'd fight the wall when I didn't understand why or how or what." He sucked in his lower lip then blew out a breath. "I'd go out and fight the barracks wall by the south exit. I'd slam my body and my hand against the wall in frustrated misery until the physical pain was greater than the mental uncertainty." He looked into General Kenobi's face. He had kind eyes; it might be an illusion but it was easier talking to those eyes than looking into the faces of the two clones at the table. He didn't want to see Commander Cody's scorn, not with what he planned to ask if they didn't send him to Kamino.

"I realize now it was all to keep our attention off him. How could we notice his treason if we were so wrapping up in our own shortcomings? If we were trying to deal with demerits and double duty like Chopper, or having opposite shifts from your best brother like Sketch and Punch. And Gus," Jester shook his head. "He tried so hard to be a good sergeant's second but you need a good sergeant for that and Gus didn't know any different."

Jester stared down at his thumbs, so full of sorrow for his squad brothers he felt like crying. Slowly he lifted his head, once again to General Kenobi. "What have you done with them?" His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.

It was Captain Rex who answered. "Chopper is being court-martialed. The others have been re-assigned; Gus to the 41st Elite, Punch to the 224th on Mimban, and Sketch to the Coruscant Guard." He paused for a moment. "We didn't realize Punch and Sketch were brothers. Neither mentioned it."

Jester lifted a shoulder in a near shrug. "Slick made it somehow shameful, as if having a brother meant you were weak." He let the sentence trail into nothing as he thought of Punch and Sketch worlds away from each other. They'd been brothers since the beginning. He waited a moment then spoke into the silence. "Is there anything else, sirs? Any other questions?"

Senator-Prince Bail Organa looked down the table at the others. "I don't believe so."

"No," murmured General Kenobi. "Cody? Captain Rex?"

Commander Cody was as still as a statue, his face still haggard. "No. Thank you, trooper."

Captain Rex, at the opposite end of the table from Senator Organa also looked down the table and there must have been some signal because he turned his battered and bruised face back to Jester and began speaking. "We are re-assigning you…"

"I'd rather stay with the 212th, sir." Jester's voice was firm as he interrupted a superior officer and he absently wondered where his stutter had gone. He hadn't stuttered since the night Slick had turned traitor; since he had told the others what to do and they'd done it.

Captain Rex blinked in surprise at the interruption then turned his head slightly toward the others.

"It's for your benefit," explained Senator-Prince Organa to Jester. "We're sending you and the others to new generals and commanders; new troopers who don't know you; who won't associate you with any wrongdoing."

Jester shook his head. "We're not traitors and sending the squad away will make troopers think we are. There are already rumors about Slick's squad."

"This entire escapade with Slick has been classified," Commander Cody leaned forward, his arms on the long table in front of the Board, his hands loosely clasped together. Under the hardness, he looked tired and injured as if he'd been broken by his Slick's treason, as though it was his fault. "Rumors are all anyone will hear; nothing will be confirmed or denied. But the 212th knows enough of the truth in this rumor to make the troopers unhappy to have you as one of them."

Jester nodded, understanding. They were re-assigning the squad for the troopers' protection, not to get rid of troublesome troopers even if that's when their new generals and commanders might think. "Perhaps it will be an uphill battle, sir. Perhaps it will be one battle I can't win. But I think the fight will be worth it."

He stared into the Commander's eyes, challenging him. "I want to stay with the 212th so they'll know that the traitor was an aberration. So they can see me every day and realize that I am not Slick; so they will realize that we – Gus, Sketch, Chopper, Punch and myself – are loyal troopers and good brothers. Our reputations have been destroyed by being under Slick's command; but I want the honor of rebuilding them among my first company."

Cody glanced away, slightly down and slightly toward General Kenobi, granting him the decision as if he was afraid to mak it. Jester's attention followed Cody's to the Jedi general. He looked into the general's face and saw compassion and sadness.

"The 212th needs this…" Jester shrugged, looking for the right word and saw it in Cody's haggard face. "The 212th needs this healing as much as any of us."

"It won't be easy," General Kenobi shifted back in the chair, relaxing slightly, his arms over his chest, one hand lightly stroking his beard as he contemplated the trooper.

Jester chuckled. "I'm a clonetrooper, sir. I wouldn't know how to handle 'easy'."


	3. A New Company, A New Squad

The ostracism was worse now than it had been before. He didn't have to ask if it only seemed as they were avoiding him.  Now he knew.

There'd been no unoccupied table so Jester had taken his tray and moved to where three brothers sat - not from the same squad either, so he wouldn't be intruding on 'squad business'. They had nodded at him, bare acknowledgement that there was nowhere else to sit, but had quickly finished eating with no conversation, picked up their trays for disposal, and departed.

Pushing his food around the plate, not really hungry, Jester's eyes flicked to a nearby table where five troopers sat laughing. Even as he looked them over, one noticed him watching and nudged his brother. Slowly, the laughter faded. The one who had seen him picked up his tray - mostly empty - and moved toward the disposal bin. After a moment's thought, he turned and sat at a different table to finish his meal; a table with vode a bit further from where Jester sat. After a short time, the others joined him.

No, it was intentional.

Jester set down the fork and pushed his tray away, not really hungry anymore. A few moments more and Jester pulled on his bucket, disposing of the meal he hadn't eaten and moved to the duty office to find his post for the evening. He hadn't yet had his courtesy call on General Kenobi or Commander Cody. He hadn't been assigned to a squad yet so he was probably going onto another shift of guard duty around the refugee camp.

Orders had come from the highest levels to keep Slick's treason quiet. Jester thought keeping everything secret simply made it all worse, simply exacerbated the rumors. Of course there were rumors; you couldn't keep something like the exploding weapons depot, Slick's arrest, and the 501st then the 212th heading to Teth, quiet from everyone. Too many brothers knew just a little of the puzzle and were trying to understand what it all meant. There were too many questions and, if no one provided accurate answers then rumor would serve.

It was quiet as Jester made his rounds. The refugees were contentious with each other during the day, but Christophsis was cold in the evenings and the people tended to stay in small family groups.

 _Like squads_ , he thought. Jester observed a woman cuddling a child in her coat as a youngling brought them one of the food packs and sat with them, facing the woman, opening the pack to share.

 _He can guard her back and she, his. So much like a squad of brothers._ Jester wondered, momentarily, if they had ever been in the Christophsis military or if the GAR military orders came from the habits of a million peoples.

_The Kaminoans said it was trained efficiency but why is it efficient? Is it because these actions are what people do under normal circumstances? Is it efficient because it doesn't need to be explained?_

Jester shook his head and turned, continuing on his rounds. _Sergeant Slick wouldn't have approved of me thinking about it, but there are similarities in squad dynamics that mimic family dynamics._

It was early in the morning, the crystal buildings starting to glow blue-purple in the nascent light of dawn, when Jester went off-duty, his relief giving him a nod and a jerk of a hand gesture that meant 'you're off', but no words.

Beneath his helmet, Jester sighed in loneliness. _I've chosen this_ , he told himself often. As Jester was trudging back to the near-empty barracks, its troopers stretched thinly over Christophsis, Senator Organa saw him and gestured for him to stop - a soft, gentle gesture befitting the citizen-prince he was - then quickly finished some conversation he'd been having with several of the refugees who moved back towards the temporary structures as Senator Organa moved quickly to where Jester waited at his command.

After a quick, scanning glance that seemed a purely natural movement, the senator spoke in a quietly intense voice. "He's gone, Trooper Jester. Coruscant for interrogation and execution."

"They won't get much information, sir," Jester replied. "We're programmed against interrogation." Tired as he was, Jester kept his gaze shifting over the buildings and rubble; he may have been technically off-duty, but Senator Organa was high on the CIS wish list.

Senator Organa made a simple but elegant gesture with his hand. "And it probably isn't as procedurally ordinary as my words made it sound."

"No, sir. A traitor among soldiers trained since birth for the sole purpose of following orders? Definitely not ordinary." Jester's eyes were still searching and he saw a small glint of metal where there'd been only rubble. "Move, sir, move," he shouted as he pushed against the senator's arm and slipped his armored body between the senator and the sniper droid, firing his blaster. "Take cover!"

Propelled by his words as much as that shove, Senator Organa moved swiftly without hesitation or questions, running low and ducking behind one of the legs of a beetle tank.

"813-vector 4," Jester shouted the coordinates in his helmet, "Sniper on one." He didn't bother yelling his designation. That wouldn't make backup appear any faster. He back-stepped, still firing, as he saw a squad of B1 droids come from behind the sniper. Jester pushed off the toe of his boot in a quick side-movement, fired twice, then ran the few steps to where the senator pressed himself against the metal tank.

"I'll cover, you back 20 paces to the next tank," ordered Jester.

"You follow." It didn't seem like an order but it was certainly more than a question.

"Yes sir. Move, now!" Jester stepped to fire, again interposing his body between man he was protecting and the B1s quickly converging on him and Senator Organa. Then there were the blue blasts of Republic deeces coming from behind him and backup was there. The B1s were quickly disposed of, though the sniper droid had escaped.

"Sir," it was Sergeant Barlex who, with a quick gesture, had his squad surrounding Organa and Jester. "Are you alright, sir?"

It was a question with an obvious answer as Senator Organa stood and dusted imaginary debris from the cape slung over his shoulder.

"Yes, thanks to this observant trooper." His fingers indicated Jester.

There was a moment of silence. For an ordinary trooper, there would have been an accolade from the sergeant. 'Good work, trooper' or perhaps 'I'll note this in your files, CT' but to Jester there were no such words and the embarrassing silence was broken by the senator.

"I'd appreciate your escort to my quarters," he tilted his head slightly.

"Of course, sir," broke in Barlex, "Gust, Herf, escort...'

But Senator Organa had already reached out and touched Jester on the gauntlet, making his choice obvious. "If you'll lead the way, trooper."

With Jester leading, they were halfway to the senator's quarters before he spoke.

"I hope that doesn't make it worse."

"I don't think so, sir." Jester wanted to say he didn't think it could get worse but he knew he was probably wrong.

Although the senator had a look of curiosity on his face as he looked at Jester, he said nothing more and Jester walked at his side until they were under cover in the building that served as barracks, mess, and offices of the 212th leadership. The corridor split and Jester turned left, toward the barracks room empty of anyone but him and sleeping night-shifters, while the senator turned right, towards the officers' offices and General Kenobi's quarters.

"Thank you, Jester, for saving my life." Senator Organa had a good voice, a strong voice. He reached out his hand, so obviously to shake Jester's.

Slick had said only weaklings and cowards said 'thank you' because they could not do things and so depended on others, like parasites. Slick said 'thank you' were words that demeaned the person who spoke them. He had also said that civilians disdained and sneered at troopers and clones.

Jester slipped off the gauntlet and glove covering his hand and held it out in reciprocation. Senator Organa had a strong, capable hand.

"How did you know it was me?" Jester asked, ready for a refusal. He'd heard somewhere that royalty didn't answer questions but he'd been taught that clones were identical - that civilians couldn't tell them apart even with the thousand little idiosyncrasies that another trooper could easily read.

"Partially your armor which is uncolored, partially the way you walked and partially…" The senator pointed at Jester's right hand, gently stroking over his wounded left.

Jester nodded but didn't know what to say to that, so he saluted. Senator Organa gave him a nod and turned.

"Thank you, sir." Jester spoke softly but the senator heard him.

"You're welcome, Jester, and thank you."

\-------------------------------

The next morning Jester had his courtesy call on General Kenobi.  It was supposed to be just the usual chat as an introduction, all low-key.

A courtesy call was supposed to be the trooper introducing himself to his general, telling about any past experience and specialized training but General Kenobi already knew everything about Jester so they actually talked a small bit about General Kenobi's own past.

That had surprised Jester. Both General Kenobi's willingness to share that information and the information itself. Jester had never before given any thought to a Jedi's beginning; so often it seemed as if they sprang, full-grown out of the Temple. He'd never thought of any Jedi as impetuous or clumsy but General Kenobi admitted to both those faults.

"I was always dropping things," he had intoned solemnly with his fingers stroking his beard but there'd been a sparkle in his eyes then he chuckled at Jester's expression. "Though I've outgrown those, of course."

It had been a good introduction and, before Jester left the General's office, Kenobi had leaned forward and spoken with deadly seriousness. "What happened with Sergeant Slick," he paused for only a moment. "If you ever see it again; with the 212th or any other company, with civilians or troopers, you let me know. I don't care about the circumstances or reasons or excuses. You let me know."

The Jedi had tapped himself on the chest. "No reports, no requesting a meeting, no going through your sergeant or captain or commander. You come and see me immediately."

Jester had nodded slowly, "I will let you know, sir, if I even suspect it is happening."

His courtesy call later the same day with Commander Cody had been slightly different. The door to Cody's office had been open and Jester tapped on the wall to let the commander know he was there.

Cody had looked up, raising his head slowly and leaning back slightly in the chair. If anything, his expression of brittle stone seemed to harden as he gestured the trooper into his office.

Jester saluted then stood at attention in front of Cody's desk.

"I wish you hadn't asked to stay with the 212th Jester," were Cody's first words, spoken in a hard voice. He still looked haggard. "We would have gotten you a good posting."

"I know, sir. I noticed the others went to companies with clone commanders; commanders with good reputations for taking care of their men; Fox, Gree, Top". Jester gave a brief smile. "You're in that group as well, sir. A commander who takes care of his men."

Commander Cody nodded absently, his mind on darker thoughts. "And I am concerned that I cannot take care of you, Jester. There isn't a sergeant who wants you after what happened with Slick. No trooper who wants you in their squad.  At best, because you're an unknown entity now.  At worst..."

Cody turned his face toward the small window; it looked out onto the weapons depot, now a blackened mass of spiked wreckage though troopers were going through it to find anything salvageable. "They don't know the half of it and I can't tell them." Then the commander was quiet, remembering dead troopers. Jester stood in front of the commander's desk simply waiting until Commander Cody had turned to face him once again. "I'll see what I can do, Jester." He picked up the stylus and tapped it several times on the desk. "I know you're electronics and computer trained..."

Jester shook his head. "Sir, I'd rather join a line squad for now if it's all the same to you."

Cody was silent, watching Jester. Normally, a command clone could make a trooper nervous by simply not speaking. Normally, a trooper would start talking. Jester had done that when they'd come to interview the squad but this time Commander Cody spoke into the silence first.

"Why?"

"Slick had us convinced that we were special because we were technician troopers." Jester dropped his head to the floor. "I want to be just ground-pounder for a while, sir. I want to be treated normally. I don't want to think I'm special or different."

Cody had nodded as he made a note on the datapad. "I'll see what I can do, Jester but if I need your skills, you will go with a specialty squad."

\--------------------------------

Still, Jester looked around the mess semi-hopefully; trying to catch someone's eyes, a silent invitation to their table or to join him. But they avoided his searching glances. He wondered who Cody would assign him to and how his new squad-brothers would react to him. From his experience in the mess, it wouldn't be good.

Jester sighed again and bent his head to the food on his plate. He had asked for this battle but now he wasn't sure he could do this.

"How long have you been here?" It was Commander Cody's second in command, Sergeant Wooley, and Jester stood to attention.

Wooley gave a small gesture for Jester to relax and repeated his question. "How long have you been with the 212th?"

Sergeant Wooley was new also; he'd come in with Commander Cody within the last two weeks.

"Local time; one month and fifteen days, sir. Straight from Kamino to Christophsis."

Wooley reached over and tapped Jester's plain helmet. "Then why isn't your armor marked?"

Jester swallowed. "My sergeant didn't allow…"

"I'm your sergeant now and I'm asking; why isn't your helmet marked."

Jester gave a hesitant grin. The commander's second as his sergeant? That could be good, but was it only because the commander had ordered it?

"Because supply is closed during lunch?"

"And when will you seam your armor?" Wooley had a slight smile.

Jester suddenly lost his smile and shook his head. "There are other troopers who wouldn't… appreciate it, sir. Other troopers who don't consider me part of the 212th. Not yet." His voice firmed. "They will," he promised then his voice softened, "but not yet."

Wooley was silent for a moment as his fingers tapped on the table. "Do troopers run this army? Or is it run by rank?

"Rank, sir."

Wooley touched the sergeant's mark on his cuff. "You're 212th, trooper. You're one of my squad and you _will_ seam your armor in 212th gold."

Wooley's order was firm and loud enough to be heard by nearby troopers. Jester stood and saluted.

"Yes, sir." He answered Wooley's question. "This afternoon, sir."

Sergeant Wooley gave a nod, stood and turned from the table; but not before giving Jester a quick wink and an upturn of the corners of his lips.

It only made sense. Sergeant Wooley was Commander Cody's second in command. While the Commander may not have been able to tell Wooley everything; he would certainly trust him with as much as he could tell. He could tell him to treat Jester fairly, he could probably… hint.  Both Cody and Captain Rex had taken a few moments to commend him on his actions the night Slick's treason had been discovered. Perhaps Commander Cody had told the sergeant that Jester had done something to... help instead of hinder.

As Jester was obtaining the paint from supply, Wooley sent him the location and door code of his new barracks along with the names of the rest of the squad. Coop, Tig, Arrow, Core, Pell, Ori, Kad and two shinies fresh from Kamino.

As Jester moved from the barracks they'd put him in after that night, he ran through his mind what he knew about the other troopers in the squad. The new guys were unknown; they'd have no notions of him as a member of Slick's squad. Core and Pell were brothers, Pell the quiet one and Core knew jokes. Coop was always offering options and alternatives while Tig had an explosive temper that was quick to anger but just as easily forgotten. Arrow was quiet and Jester knew almost nothing about him except that both Chopper and Sketch separately agreed he was the best at hand-to-hand they'd ever met. Kad and Ori, Jester knew only by name but they sounded as though they'd taken the Mandalorian tradition to heart with names of 'saber' and 'superlative'.

He paused at the door, his gear bag and blaster slung over his shoulder and a small jar of yellow paint in his hand.

His new squad. His new brothers. A new beginning.

He'd do his best; he'd always done his best but he was, hopefully, wiser now. Jester took a deep breath then released it through his mouth.

Jester keyed in the code and strode into the barracks. It was mostly empty; only Core, Tig and Kad were there. All three glanced over to see who it was. Jester gave each man a nod as he moved toward the one empty bunk, setting his helmet in the corresponding helmet lock by the door.

"Is Sergeant Wooley in?" he asked with a nod toward the sergeant's office as he set his gear bag on the bunk.

"He's out for the moment; checking the camp with the Commander." That was Tig and his tone was hesitant and reserved, not welcoming but not disgusted either. It was obvious he knew who Jester was but equally obvious that he wasn't going to let rumors make up his mind.

" _Aruetyc_."

It was a hissed whisper and Jester turned to face Kad.

"I won't call one-on-one for that because I understand what you must think," Jester began, "but I'm no traitor."

Jester turned back to setting his gear in its proper place, setting the yellow paint on the small shelf of his bunk. His heart sank in heavy despair as he realized that being in Wooley's squad would be as hard as being in Slick's had been.

 _I can do this_ , he told himself again. _I chose to do this. Because I am not a traitor._


	4. Traitorous

_Aruetyc_.

Traitorous.

The word followed Jester to the mess and on patrol with Wooley's squad. Ori and Kad refused to have anything to do with him except under direct orders; Core, and Pell grumbled under their breaths but never quite loud enough for the sergeant or Coop to say anything while Tig merely watched and waited. The two troopers new from Kamino - 9413 and 8208 - were quiet and indecisive as shinies tended to be until they found the order of things, until they found where they fit in. With the animosity in the squad, it was taking longer for them, for everyone, to find where and how they fit.

Very quickly, Jester had become the best man. His scores and familiarity with Christophsis put him at the top of the battle rankings in the squad and being the best was usually a precursor to becoming sergeant's second but Coop and Wooley had been working together for some time.

"You're very good, Jester. I've gone over your records and Barlex told me what you'd done for Senator Organa. Commander Cody and I have noted it in your record."

That wasn't quite a surprise. Barlex had come into the mess the day after the attempted assassination of Senator Organa. He'd been off-duty, laughing with some of his men as they came into the crowded mess. As his eyes scanned the mess for an empty table, they halted at seeing Jester eating his meal; alone as he'd been doing since the night they caught the traitor.

_Jester gave a differential nod at the sergeant as he gestured at the table then his near empty plate. A message of he'd be going soon and they wouldn't need to tolerate his presence for very long._

_Barlex slapped his helmet on his head, all duty now, and strode to Jester who stood, his fingers on his not-quite-finished tray wondering if he'd be ordered to vacate the table for Barlex and his squad._

" _Trooper 4646."_

_Jester snapped to attention. "Sir."_

_There was a moment's pause then Barlex spoke again, his voice carrying through the mess as the din of fifty clones eating and talking quieted._

" _Rescuing Senator Organa," Again there was a pause, as if the sergeant was contemplating what to say. "That was good work, trooper."_

_The words resounded through the nearly silent mess._

" _Thank you, sir," Jester acknowledged then said it again. "Thank you."_

_Barlex gave him a jerky little nod then turned back to his squad, removing his helmet once he reached them, off-duty once again._

Sergeant Wooley sighed. "If this was an entirely new squad, I'd take you as my second, but it's not a new squad. There are brothers; there are already pairs and teams."

"Not to mention my… somewhat dubious background," added Jester. Wooley chuckled bringing his fingers to his chin.

"I was going to mention that later, but, yes, there is that as well." He leaned back. "I don't believe you're _aruetyc,_ Jester. What Commander Cody has said, what Captain Rex has told me, and what I heard at CT-9523's court-martial ruling isn't much but what they've written in your records is sufficient." Wooley glanced down at the table then tilted his head toward Jester. "Highest commendation. That's how your active record begins now. From the time you arrived on Christophsis until those two words it's all been erased, and then begins 'highest commendation'."

"Chopper's court-martial is done?" Jester asked quietly, surprised, and hopeful for the first time in a while and skimming over his own accolade. "I appreciate you letting me visit him a few days ago. He's not going back to Kamino, is he? He'll..."

Sergeant Wooley was already shaking his head. "Reassigned to the 501st."

"The 501st?" A grin began turning up the corners of Jester's mouth. "Under Captain Rex in Torrent?" He saw Wooley's nod and his grin became a wide-mouthed smile. "He'll do well in the 501st; they're a good company. Almost as good as the 212th."

Sergeant Wooley laughed and tapped the desk to bring Jester's attention back to squad matters. "I want the squad to stabilize before I change the way it's run, Jester. I want more time to find how everyone reacts." He became solemn. "I want time for them to realize their words are unfounded because I can't tell them even as much as was hinted to me and that was nothing substantial. They need to realize you're not traitorous on their own."

"And if they don't, sir," Jester asked, his own face as worried as the sergeant's. "What if they never change their minds; if they never come to trust me?"

"I don't know, Jester." Wooley's voice was soft.

But Jester knew. "You'll have to let me go; reassign me somewhere else."

Slowly, the sergeant nodded.

# # #

Usually Arrow would slide in beside him before Wooley gave the order. Arrow didn't talk much and that was fine with Jester even though he would have preferred some kind of conversation; he knew Arrow didn't talk much with anyone.

_He'll take on the disagreeable tasks without anyone asking. I wonder if he's been through bad things like Chopper._ If he had, it didn't show on his face.

The squad was patrolling sector seven, cautious because there'd been several droid sightings in the area.

"One of the refugees said there was a nest of B1s in the blue crystal building," said Coop in explanation. As sergeant's second, he was at Wooley's side, slightly behind him - both men leading the column. At his words, Kad and Ori slowed, taking the rear behind the rest.

_Keeping me in sight,_ snorted Jester to himself but they wouldn't have moved to the position without Sergeant Wooley's go-ahead.

Jester and Arrow were next to the rear with Tig slightly forward as center man and the two shinies on either side of him. Core and Pell were just behind the sergeant and second. As the squad moved forward, their shadows snaked ahead of them, long and narrow against the crystal road.

Jester glanced forward, toward the blue crystal building, then to either side. These buildings were mostly undamaged and appeared connected but Jester couldn't determine if that was a fact or not, due to the reflections of the sun bouncing back and forth. It was a beautiful, sparkling place; no doubt the crown jewel of Christophsis but the lights reflecting and refracting played havoc with his helmet visuals.

There didn't seem to be any streets or alleys between the buildings, none that Jester could discern in the gleaming lances of light that had his helmet blinking between no- and full-dark filter. In frustration, he manually overrode it and gave it an arctic setting with a polarizing filter.

There was no real good place to retreat except the way they'd come. Jester flicked his helmet view to rear and nearly stopped walking; the road had vanished!

No, he could see it, but with the sun shining behind them the reflections were blinding, confusing; even with the polarizer.

"Sergeant Wooley," his hand tightened around his deece as he spoke open-channel. "I think this is a trap."

"I was getting that feeling myself, Jester. I've called for backup. But we'll continue as if we don't suspect a thing. Choose your spots, gentlemen."

"A double-trap, then," muttered Kad, "with an _aruetyc_ …"

"Kad," rebuked Wooley, but whatever he planned on saying next was drowned in blaster fire as the ambush was sprung.

Jester didn't have to choose a spot for cover; he'd been eyeing possibilities as they walked since they'd left the barracks. He moved toward his chosen pile of rubble backwards with the squad as he continued firing at the droids. It was a good spot; a large aggregation of cracked building crystals and twisted, metal girders spreading out from the foot of a building undamaged by the battles. Arrow was also making towards the big pile, alternating concentrated fire as the B1s converged on the squad from several buildings.

"Not just a nest," muttered Coop angrily open channel as he followed Wooley's lead, also moving backwards towards the large mound. "This is an entire platoon."

"Definitely an ambush," came the sergeant's reply, but his frequency was high-end and longer ranging, for the commander and their back-up.

"Cover me," Arrow told Jester and Jester stepped closer to his side, the blue blasts from his deece tearing into droid skin. From the corner of his eye, Jester caught sight of round droid poppers as Arrow pulled them from his belt.

"Get the ones on Tig," he directed and Arrow landed one of the poppers with an easy throw right behind the droids crowding Tig and the two shinies. Most of the droids shivered and jerked before falling but there were still plenty of droids firing on them. The metallic skins of the droids had been highly polished in an attempt to confuse their buckets.

Sergeant Wooley was shouting in his helmet even as he and Coop were moving back. "Hold them, troopers. Use polarizing filter. Help is on the way."

There was a cry of "Pell's down" from Core but the B1s were too close, too brightly elusive for the helmets, and too many for Jester to look behind. Still, Jester shifted slightly to aim at the B1s targeting Core who stood over Pell protectively. A droid popper sailed over his shoulder into the mass of droids, taking out a few but the remainder continued advancing.

Ori and Kad closed in with Core, each man covering the others but they'd be overrun in moments. Ori took a moment to use his droid poppers and that gave them breathing room.

"Arrow," came Wooley's voice even as more droid poppers and blue plasma came from the front half of the squad. Wooley and Coop had found minimal cover. "Grab Pell. Towards us."

Jester covered Arrow as he took the three steps and grabbed Pell's arm. Pell grabbed back and that was a good sign but his leg was limp and the comm unit of his helmet was off.

_Probably screeching in pain_ , thought Jester as he put one hand on Arrow's shoulder to help guide him back, Pell kicking the ground with his working leg to help move, his blaster in his other hand. As Arrow pulled, Jester and Pell fired into the oncoming droids. Core was on Pell's other side with Ori and Kad.

"Where's our backup, sir?" It was one of the shinies, his voice quietly fearful, and Jester chanced a quick glance at him. The shiny crouched low over Tig who lay, unmoving, behind some scattered crystal debris firing into the mass of battledroids.

It was the scattered debris which somehow made Jester realize that it was a trap - not just the ambush of droids but that big, safe-looking pile of rubble near the building. The building which was still standing, still as perfect as the day it had been made; a building from which no twisted metal or cracked crystal had fallen.

"Sergeant," he shouted, "cover's a trap; it's been planted!" He moved to the shiny crouching over Tig. Arrow dragged Pell to stand next to the other shiny, letting go of his arm to target the droids, their blasters blazing.

Kad turned back, out of Jester's view, toward Sergeant Wooley, Coop, and one of the shinies.

"Building's undamaged." Words rushed out of Jester as he fired at the tinnies, hoping the sergeant would listen. "Wouldn't be rubble, sir."

There was only the barest moment of silence then Sergeant Wooley gave the orders. "Center around Pell." He, Coop, Kad and the shiny moved back to where Jester and Arrow stood guarding Tig and Pell. Ori and Core moved to their other flank. They formed a curved line being molded into a circle as the droids surrounded them, everyone firing except Tig. Wounded Pell was leaning against Core as he fired on the droids from where he sat.

Coop went down as a blast took out his leg, but continued firing from where he lay. Unlike Pell, he'd left his bucket open-channel and they could hear every curse and cry he uttered. Kad had taken a hit to his arm but had simply grabbed his blaster with his functional hand; with droids surrounding them, he didn't need to do a lot of aiming.

"Hold on a moment more," encouraged Wooley in a harsh voice, "help is…"

"Here." It was Commander Cody's voice and he was accompanied by General Kenobi and a good portion of the 212th.


	5. In the Mess

General Kenobi was in the lead, moving like lightning as his saber deflected shot after red-ionized shot from hitting the oncoming troopers as they swarmed into the plaza dominated by the crystal buildings. There was no pause in his movements, no hesitation in his gestures. With a gesture from his outstretched hand, a squadron of tinnies went slamming into a building while, in that same instant he seemed to dance in a circle taking out another droid squadron with the blue blade of the saber.

Simply because the General and Commander Cody were there with troopers didn't mean they could slack off and, as another wave of droids poured out of the crystal buildings, Jester realized it was a trap within a trap. A small trap for a squad and a larger trap for the company.

"Get them out of there," Kenobi yelled out to the commander over the noise.

Jester heard Commander Cody's orders on his open channels; Barlex's squad to flank right while Ferritin's would drive straight in toward the surrounded squad. "Wooley, wedge toward Ferritin. Coords 275 by 20."

"Arrow, you're the knife," Sargeant Wooley spoke to the squad. "Take us forward."

Jester took a step closer as they began to form a wedge, covering Arrow as he moved into his forefront position, and reached to assist Pell to his feet

"I've got him, _aruetyc."_

Jester flinched at the word as Ori slipped his arm under Pell's, hauling him to his feet, Core on his other side. Next to Ori was Kad, firing into the mass of droids, his wounded arm dangling limply as they moved into place behind Arrow.

Jester took a step back, giving them room and covering them even as he glanced back at the rest of the squad. Wooley was moving forward with Coop who was leaning heavily against the sergeant while both shinies each had an arm around Tig, his body limp and his legs dragging behind. Jester moved toward them, his blaster spitting blue fire at the droids.

"Keep firing," he told the shinies, "but to the side. I'll cover your backs."

There was a growl of disagreement from Kad. "A _ruetyc_ Jester covering our backs?" He slowed for a moment in preparation, half-turning toward the rear, but Sergeant Wooley gave him a cuff against his wounded arm and he hissed in pain.

"No time for dancing, Kad," Wooley's voice was harshly angry in the open channels. "Arrow, on commander's mark."

"Ferritin, make your move." The words from Commander Cody were calm, but Jester could hear the hard steel of anger in them and his heart sunk as he faced the tinnies, backing to keep up with the squad as they began the drive forward. Commander Cody would get rid of him now.

The droids converged at the thin area where the squad and the company would meet; half the tinnie casualties caused by the crossfire from the company of droids surrounded them, the other half by droid-poppers and blaster fire. There were so many droids, they surrounded Cody's incoming forces and Ferritin's team as well as Wooley's small squad. Jester figured he'd die a good death today and there wouldn't be any more words of _aruetyc_ , there wouldn't be the ostracism in the mess. That would be fine by him.

"Misfire," yelled one of the shinies as he slammed the deece against the armor of his leg trying to clear it, his other arm supporting Tig. There was no doubt that his blaster had been hit, the gas chamber was bent and crumpled; the metal of the power pack chamber sputtering and flickering.

"Toss it," said Jester as he stepped forward between the rookie and the droids. "It's in explosive overload."

"Fek!" The shiny tossed the weapon into the mass of droids then pulled more of Tig's weight to give 8208 the opportunity to fire. Jester stayed at his side, covering him and Tig as the deece exploded. It didn't sound very loud in the din of everything else, but it took down a good number of B1s.  Commander Cody took advantage of the momentary hole, filling it with troopers then pushing the Seppie forces back.

When Jester glanced around, he saw Ferritin kneeling by Tig, medic pack at his side. The rookie was beside Jester with a borrowed blaster and a blackened streak on his bucket. Jester felt good, fighting alongside a brother as they protected others.

But he wondered what would happen when they returned to base.

* * *

The shiny-no-more, 9413, saw him, gave a nod and, once he picked up his tray and food, came to sit with Jester.

"Thanks for saving my shebs." He grinned, "they're the only ones I've got. I'm called Thirteen, until I can come up with something better."

Jester chuckled. "After today's skirmish, you can call yourself Crystal or Gleam or Bright." He took another bit of the stew then grinned at Thirteen. "Even Overload."

Thirteen shook his head. "I want my name to be special - to be because I contributed something more than just blaster fire."

"And not just lucky chance?" Jester asked but his eyes were drawn to Kad and Ori as they come into the mess, pick up their trays and move toward Jester's table. For one wild, impossible moment, Jester thought they meant to sit with him and Thirteen.

" _Aruetyc_ ," Ori delivered the denunciation in a hard voice as he and Kad passed the table.

Jester's fingers tightened on the table's edge then he relaxed slightly. _I've chosen this_ , he reminded himself. As he glanced at the new guy sitting across from him, his breathing came easier.

"Why do they call you a _ruetyc?_ " Thirteen glanced where Ori and Kad were eating, relaxed and chatting, Kad occasionally rubbing his wounded arm. Ori caught his glance and made a motion with his head, an invitation for Thirteen to join them. Thirteen merely turned back to Jester. "Why not _aruetii_? 'Traitor' instead of 'traitorous'?"

"If they call me traitor then they'll have to answer to the general; they'll have to prove it. They can't do that so they merely make sure I know what they think of me." Jester ignore his meal in favor of conversation. He could eat anytime.

Thirteen nodded in understanding. "I've heard there was an infiltrator or something; that Asajj Ventress was involved and that only Captain Rex returned from Teth with General Skywalker."

"You'll hear a lot of things." Jester sighed and dropped his gaze to the remnants of his stew. The other trooper was just curious; just wanting to know more from the source.

"I've noticed," Thirteen sounded amused. "I've heard about twenty versions of what happened. Twenty _different_ versions." He bent over his food, taking a deep breath of the spicy stew.

"I can tell you that Ventress was involved and that Captain Rex returned with five troopers."

"Is she beautiful?" Thirteen leaned forward eagerly and whispered the question.

"I didn't see her," Jester answered and Thirteen released a regretful breath. "But there are some women in the camp if you want to meet one."

"No," Thirteen shook his head. "It's not that she's a woman; I've seen one of those…"

Jester refrained from laughing, but only barely.

"But Ventress is a general and a fighter and a woman and a Force user." His voice was tinged with wonder and curiosity. "How could she be all of that?"

"Didn't you have any female trainers on Kamino? Master Shaak Ti or one of the trainers; Sergeant Tervho, perhaps?"

Shaking his head, Thirteen sighed. "Mostly flash-training and Sergeant Davin." He bent to his dinner and Jester merely enjoyed his company as they talked, actually discussed the battle earlier in the day.

Thirteen gestured to Kad with his spoon the dipped it back into his bowl. "Kad just has the bacta patch, as you can see, and Coop is wounded just above his knee. A couple of bacta patches for him too and he's in the squad room painting his wound on his armor. Tig, though, he's in a bad way and in bacta for a few days."

Jester nodded; he'd seen Tig's chest when Ferritin had released the locks and pulled off the armor.

"Are you going to wait for him in medical?" Thirteen set down the spoon carefully and looked into Jester's eyes.

"I don't think I'd be welcome, but maybe I'll wait at the doorway."

Thirteen shook his head. "If you want to be there, you'll sit on the bench next to me." He shrugged slightly as if he needed an excuse. "I'll probably need help painting his new chestplate. That's a complicated pattern he has on it."

Jester sat straight, almost at attention, no longer leaning forward with his arms on the table. "I'd be honored; both to wait with you and to help with Tig's armor."

"Good," said Thirteen in finality as he picked up his spoon then gazed at Jester thoughtfully. "Why did your squad get split up?"

Jester leaned back with a sigh and turned his face. They were gone; all but Chopper who'd been incorporated into the 501st. They hadn't even really liked him though he wondered if that had also been Slick's machinations; to separate them and make them feel alone and isolated even though they were supposed to be a squad, a team.

"Command thought it was the best thing to do."

"What did you think?"

Jester was silent for a long while but the shiny waited.

"I'm not sure what I think."

Thirteen frowned in confusion as he took a bite of the meat cube dowsed with the spicy sauce, chewed then swallowed. "That means it was even stranger than the stories I've heard."

Jester tilted his head with a grin though the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Stranger than any rumors they could come up with."

Thirteen nodded his head towards where Ori and Kad were seated. "Why don't you challenge Ori or Kad to one-on-one?"

Jester shrugged. "What would it prove other than one of us can beat the other into submission? Do you think it would stop the whispers and harsh words from the rest of the company? Do you think more troopers would join me here in the mess or slap me on the shoulder in camaraderie?"

"It would prove you'll stand up for yourself. It would prove you're no coward."

"Oh, but I am," Jester laughed softly in self-contempt. "I was afraid of standing up for myself, afraid to point out obvious lies and maltreatment. I was afraid to face the truth."

"What truth was that?" Thirteen leaned forward on his arms but Jester shook his head.

"I'm not sure," he said quietly as he stared down at his hands.


	6. The Ground Falls Away

As Thirteen and Jester strode into the barracks, Arrow glanced up at them from his bunk then flicked his eyes towards the others. Everyone but Tig and Pell were present, Ori and Kad had eaten quickly then left the mess as if the atmosphere was bad. Coop was leaning back in his bunk with his injured knee wrapped in a bacta bandage; 8202 was at his side with a tray of stew from it mess. It was silent, each trooper somehow at attention where they sat or stood and Jester's good mood at having Thirteen's company dissipated.

"Did Tig..." he began but Coop shook his head.

"Command called in the sergeant."

"Your fault, _aruetii,_ " accused Ori and Kad, at his side, nodded.

"Ori, you'll need proof if you're going to carry on like that," said Coop quickly. "Besides, It's probably just after-battle debrief."

Jester knew Core was hoping no one would notice the word Ori had used, but it hung in the air like smoke and ozone over the battlefield.

Core took up Coop's lead away from Jester and that awful word.  He shook his head from where he sat fixing Pell's blast-damaged greave. "You didn't hear the Commander, Coop. He was…" Core looked up from the greave and shrugged. "I don't ever want him that angry at me."

Jester was aware of Thirteen's hand on his shoulder.

"I've got your back, Jester." His voice sounded unnaturally loud in the barracks. "If you call one-on-one."

Jester paused, wondering if perhaps beating Ori or being beaten would stop the rumors. He wondered if they'd accept him then. He opened his mouth, wondering if he was going to challenge Ori or decline…

The barracks door slung open. "Kad, my office," growled Sergeant Wooley as he came into the barracks and strode directly to his desk, slapping down some flimsicharts. From Wooley's mood, the after-battle debrief - if that's what it had been - hadn't been good.

The men began standing, moving towards the door to the mess in order to give the sergeant and the trooper privacy in the open barracks. Core moving to assist 8208 with Coop.

"Troopers, attend." Wooley moved until he stood nose to ear to Kad as every trooper halted and turned to the sergeant in parade rest.

"Commander Cody," Sergeant Wooley began softly, "was not pleased at the momentary pause of my squad when you began to turn back."

Kad didn't try to explain nor did he need to.

"He said that it was commendable of you to want to protect your vode but not," Wooley emphasized that word hard then repeated it. "Not at the expense of leaving your position open."

Kad flinched.

"Do you have any extenuating circumstances to offer the commander?"

"He's _aruetii_ , sir. A traitor. He would have..."

"Commander Cody and General Kenobi disagree with your assessment in this matter."

Kad's face hardened but he said nothing, willing to accept his punishment but not willing to accept Jester's innocence.

"You say Jester is a traitor." Wooley paused, letting Kad relax incrementally. "Then prove it," snapped Wooley.

His eyes shifted to where Jester stood, unmoving by his bunk, Thirteen at his side, and a flicker of approval washed over the sergeant's features. They hardened as he turned back to Kad. "I'll make it easy on you, Kad."

Jester felt his face twitch into a grimace. That sounded ominous and he suspected he knew what was coming.

"Jester," Wooley's voice snapped and Jester straightened to full attention.

"Sir,"

"Meet your new partner." Wooley grabbed Kad's arm and turned the stunned trooper towards Jester's bunk.

"Yes, sir, sergeant." Jester replied quickly. He wasn't sure what he was feeling but it wasn't good and he wanted to hide so he could puke his guts out. Thirteen's fingers dug into the flesh of his shoulder painfully.

_I can do this,_ Jester told himself. _I have chosen this. I can do this because I am not a traitor._

In spite of his tight grip, Thirteen's presence at his back was comforting

Wooley's words affected Kad even more. Silently, he shook his head, his face pale in shock. "No sir." Kad's mouth moved, but no sound emerged. Then he found his voice. "Sir," he turned and pleaded with the sergeant, his eyes wide. "Please, sir."

Wooley was adamant, turning away from them as he began removing his armor. "It's your opportunity to prove Jester is a traitor to the Grand Army of the Republic, Kad. You have one week to prove it or retract your accusations."

He rubbed the sergeant's stripe on his armor.

"Dismissed," he sounded exhausted. "I'm to medical to check on Tig and Pell."

"Jester and I will accompany you, sir." Thirteen grabbed Jester's arm as he stared at Kad. "I guess that means you two as well, Kad. Ori. Come on, it's your big chance to catch a traitor."

Kad didn't move from where he stood, his mouth open and gulping air like a Mon Calamari in shock until Ori reached and guided him to his bunk.

Jester followed Thirteen and the sergeant.

"I wonder what it means to catch a traitor," mused 8208 as he turned back to Coop with the tray of food.

"The ground falls away," whispered Jester as the door shut behind them. He didn't realize he'd spoken until Thirteen gave him a sharp glance.


	7. The Best

For all his anger and hatred of Jester, Kad was a good partner.  If he kept his eyes open for any actions that could be accounted treasonous, he kept his eyes opened.  Ori was always near as well, the two of them waiting for Jester to make a mistake.  It was almost as bad as Slick watching him, waiting for him to mess up and once or twice Jester had started to stutter before catching himself.

They weren’t Sergeant Slick.  They weren’t _trying_ to make him fail or stutter.  They were only watching to see if he was _like_ Slick  Jester could forgive that.  Every night, he wished the squad had seen Slick for what he was.  Every day he wished someone had seen what Slick had done to his squad.  Mostly though, he blamed himself.  He’d seen what Slick was doing.  Why hadn’t he ever brought it to commands attention?  Sometimes a tiny voice argued that it wasn’t his responsibility.  

He could see that Kad and Ori were just covering their brothers and Jester understood that.  He wished he had covered the backs of those troopers in Slick’s squad.  He promised himself he’d protect the backs of these brothers.

Thirteen kept to his back; not talking as much as he’d done previously, but Jester welcomed his presence.  Thirteen seemed friendly; his distance more to let Kad and Ori observe freely rather than avoiding Jester.  Arrow kept his distance from all the troopers and offered friendship to none though Eight usually took a position near him or as his partner.  Pell and Core, being brothers, tended not to care what the others said, merely how they acted on the battlefield.  Since Core’s release from medical, Pell was more protective of his brother.  Tig hadn’t made out of medical and Ferritin, the medic, had returned his remains and his gear to Kamino.

Jester gave the squad no cause for complaint.  Neither did Kad and Ori.  Given permission to freely believe Jester was a traitor and to actively search for proof had tempered their mutterings.  Coop, as sergeant’s second, tried to keep them in some sort of unit as a squad should be even as Sergeant Wooley spent more time with General Kenobi and the command group.  

“Fek,” Coop would mumble occasionally, “I wish you would fight and just get it done.”

Kad and Ori’s new closeness to Jester was seen and misinterpreted by the other troopers of the 212th.

“An entire nest,” sneered one of the heavy gunners as he disdainfully brushed by them.

“Must be contagious,” said the trooper at his side, moving just a little further away from the table and giving the first trooper a nudge with his elbow.

Kad’s knuckles turned white on the fork and he began to attack his meat as if it had uttered those bitter words, then he glared at the backs of the troopers, chewing angrily.  Occasionally Ori would glance at Jester when some other trooper denigrated the squad along with him.  That glance had turned from hate to confusion and now there was bewilderment on Ori’s expression as he looked from Kad to Jester.

“Ignore them,” said Coop as he tried to return the squad’s attention to squad business.  

Jester sighed, sad rather than angry at the heavy gunner’s words, even as he absently listened to Coop going over the week’s assignments.  Their disdainful words still bothered him but he supposed the commonplace occurrence had inoculated him against the emotions that had previously ripped through him.  Now it was nothing so evident and commonplace as jagged anger and it didn’t rip through him, tearing his emotions as anger had.  It simply flooded his entire being, drowning him with despair.

Jester glanced up, past Ori’s brow furrowed in dismay as he gazed into Jester’s face, to see two troopers with filled trays near the table.  They were scouts and recently transferred.  The mess was filled with new troops, imports from Kamino and elsewhere to replace the ranks.

Sometimes, Jester thought that if he lasted long enough, no one in the 212th would even remember there had been treason and the rookies would look on him as an experienced trooper and a good brother.  Jester shook his head; the older troopers told the shinies.  They didn’t make accusations under their breath but they did stare at him with wide eyes and wonder what he had done.  Unsure of what they’d heard, they tended to avoid Jester and, by extension, the entire squad.

Jester shook his head slightly.  He had survived.  He had survived better than Punch and Sketch who’d been so brainwashed by Slick they hadn’t even told the review board they were brothers by choice.  He had survived better than Chopper who had broken training by collecting droid fingers on the battlefield and thought it meant he was strong.  He had survived better than poor Gus who had spent the first night whimpering and crying in his bunk, trying to muffled the noise under the small pillow.  That tiny voice was wrong; it had been his responsibility to cover his squad.  He had failed.

Jester sighed, listening to Coop.  With a lot of work delegated to Wooley’s second, the squad knew he was busy being Cody’s second and looking over the entire company rather than the more normal attention strictly on his own troopers.  Rumor was they were leaving Christophsis soon; it looked like rumor was fact.  That meant more rookies from Kamino to fill in the empty slots though these two scouts were from another company, their experience in their very posture as they looked around for an empty table.  There were none and they moved toward where Wooley’s squad sat.

“Nest of what?”  One of the scouts stood by the table, his eyebrow raised as he looked the squad over.  The innocent question was too much for Kad.

“He’s a traitor,” snarled Kad, jabbing a finger in Jester’s direction.  “And they accuse us by association.”

“Kad, stand down,” ordered Coop and Kad bent his head back to his meat, his expression both hateful and angry.  Ori turned toward Jester, that sad and confused expression again furrowing his brow.  Jester wondered what he was thinking.

The scout with the sardonic lift to his eyebrows turned a measuring glance to Jester.  “Does Commander Cody allow a traitor among his troops?”

Jester shook his head.  “No.”  His voice was quiet as he wondered why he bothered trying to uphold the squad’s honor.  The squad didn’t exist anymore.  Why not let Cody send him to another commander?  He’d be clean then, simply another transferred trooper like these two scouts.  He’d be honored for his experience and by the time some rumor or another reached out to touch him, the troopers would know him as a good and faithful brother and would weigh their experience more heavily than mere words.

“Good enough for me,” said the clean-shaven scout as he sat next to Thirteen.  “I’m Waxer.”

“Boil,” introduced the other, sitting next to Jester.

“But, don’t you see,” argued Kad to the newcomers.  “How he drops his head, ashamed of his treason?”

Waxer shrugged as he gave Jester a gentle look of sympathy. “Or sad at how he’s been treated by his squad vode.”

“What did he do,” said the other clone as he looked over his meal and scrapped half the bith beans onto his partner’s plate.

That brought Kad up short but Ori had his brother’s back.  

“Everyone knows…” he began but Waxer snorted his disbelief as he slide some meat onto Boil’s platter in exchange.

“What do you know?  What did you see?”  Boil said then stuffed a bite of the roast into his mouth still watching Kad.

“I know he’s a traitor,” argued Kad.

“Saying it loud doesn’t make it any truer,” volunteered Thirteen with a nod at Jester.

“Enough of that,” commanded Coop with a frown.  “When Sergeant Wooley returns, he’ll want us in prime condition and working as a unit.  Even with this dissension between you, you’re still an excellent squad.  Imagine how good you could be if you worked together.”  He straightened his shoulders proudly. “Sergeant Wooley’s squad has always been the commander’s primary choice for special assignments, opening a gap, leading the others.  It’s because we’re the best.”

Waxer, his mouth full, wagged his finger at Coop while shaking his head.  When he swallowed and licked his lips clean, he grinned at Coop.  “No,” he corrected as he made a gesture between him and Boil.  “We’re the best.”

 


	8. The Commander

 

“Officers on the deck.”  

The voice that rang through the mess was sharp and cut through the troopers’ chatter and the rattling of flatware against plate.  It was followed by the snap of every trooper in the mess, on-duty or off, standing and coming to attention.

Behind the visor of his helmet, Cody frowned and glared.  He didn’t deserve the accolade.  Not anymore.  Not after Sergeant Slick.  Punch had been right in his angry accusation; he should have seen what Sergeant Slick was doing to his squad.

“I thought we had requested a bit of informality,” remarked General Kenobi at his side, seemingly oblivious to his internal turmoil.

“Most of them are Kamino new, sir,” Cody explained.  “The others do so to present a proper example to the rookies and because there have been rumors of our departure.”

“So there is a sense of something in the air?”

“Yes, sir.”  Cody nodded as he scanned the mess.  He wasn’t looking for that reminder that he had messed up but Jester was there, standing at strict attention.  It was crowded in the mess; Cody supposed that was why his squad was at the same table along with two of the new men - scouts and two of Fox’s best men who’d been wasted on peaceful Coruscant.  Wooley was still in the control center working the logistics of departure at Senator Organa’s side with the Christophsis delegates.  

Jester was trying; he was a good trooper.

I thought Slick was a good trooper,  Cody reminded himself,  I was wrong.

Barlex had told him about the sniper incident and Senator Organa had confirmed that Jester had very likely saved his life, but it was Jester’s own squad who mistrusted him, his own squad who called him ‘traitor’.  That was being spread throughout the 212th because if a trooper’s own squad mistrusted him...  

Those were the rumors Cody hadn’t wanted in  his 212th; his new and first command outside of Kamino training.  He wanted to be proud of his troopers, proud of his vode.  And, he was proud of them.  They’d held Christophsis against the CIS.  They’d been deprived of general, commander, and captain, and they’d held together.  They’d been starved and decimated, and still, they’d held against the blockade.  He was proud of them but… there’d been Slick and treason and cruelty.

I interviewed him, I vetted him.  I liked Sergeant Slick and he had Lieutenant Grey’s praise.   The taste of truth was bitter; Sergeant Slick had been a traitor and Cody wanted everything associated with him out of the company. 

Yet, Jester had the right of it as well.  If the entire squad had been sent away, the rumors would be no better and very likely worse.  The only thing that had saved Jester from an ambush of troopers had been Wooley’s discussion among the sergeants - thinly veiled - that the commander preferred disagreements to be open.  Any fighting among troops that wasn’t a command-sanctioned one-on-one would be heavily punished by demerits and extra duties.  It had been his idea to put the two quarreling troopers together as a team.  

Cody didn’t like one-on-one fights, preferring diplomacy and communication; talking in the mess and having the two contentious troopers realize how much they depended upon each other was preferred over two men on medical relief for a day or two.  In this instance, though, Wooley was right.  The threat had to be there to give Jester time to prove his innocence.

What if he isn’t innocent?  What if he’s as guilty as Slick?  What if you’re wrong again?   The thoughts nagged at him.  

“Shall I give the presentation, Commander?  You seem preoccupied”

Cody jerked, attentive to his surroundings and was glad the hard flush of embarrassment was hidden by his helmet.  Perhaps his new general wasn’t quite as oblivious as he seemed.

“No, sir.  They’ll expect instructions from me.”

“And I’m simply here for…”  The general left the question open but had a slight smile.  “decoration?”  General Kenobi gave a single shake of his head.  “I’d ask, Commander Cody, if I may present our next assignment.  Not an order and no disrespect if you feel the men would listen better to you; simply a request.  I am their general and we will all need to learn to work together.”

It seemed odd to hear his own thoughts spoken aloud.

They had reached the small briefing stage at the end of the mess and turned to face the troopers.  Cody stepped forward, removing and tucking his helmet under his arm.  “Company, at ease.”  Then he pitched his voice louder, “Attend.  While there are still pockets of resistance; the Senate Council has declared Christophsis a victory.”

The Christophsan delegates and the civilians with Senator Bail had cheered when they’d heard that news.  His troopers stayed at attention; smiles, grins and pleased satisfaction their only expressions of a job well done.

Cody glanced at General Kenobi standing next to him.  He was dressed in typical Jedi robes with his light saber at his side.  His arms were crossed and the fingers of one hand twisted a strand of his beard.  He seemed remote, as if he had pulled himself smaller.  But Cody had heard he’d spoken with Wrench about trooper’s armor - its standards and limitations.  It had been a good move; the remnants of the 212th he’d inherited from Lieutenant Grey had neither liked nor trusted their previous Jedi general.  General Kenobi had requested a less formal arrangement than the Kamino-required ‘salute and attention’ when passing troopers in the hallway.  The general had asked Cody to address him as ‘Kenobi’.  That was a step more than Cody was willing to take but General Kenobi appeared to be going beyond what most Jedi considered adequate in their dealings with the clones.

Cody turned his face toward the general standing, easily balanced and ready for anything, and gave a small nod.  

Letting the general make the announcement would give him the time to observe the troops’ attention to the general, to see how the original 212th troopers reacted to the new Jedi, and to forestall any behavior which might escalate into disrespect.  It would give him more time to see how his new general dealt with clones and command.  

“Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi will now go over our next assignment, after which all sergeants will report to the command center for detailed briefing.”

General Kenobi turned his blue eyes to Cody and returned the nod, the corners of his lips upturned in a small smile, as he stepped forward.

Commander Cody looked over the troopers as General Kenobi spoke but his eyes were mostly drawn to Jester and he was shocked to see Jester sadly gazing back into his eyes with compassion.

As if he knew how much his presence tormented Cody.


	9. A Little Mystery

 

“I’ve heard the Resolute is one of the biggest ships ever,” Core was saying to Pell as they trailed behind the others of the squad.  “The crew alone numbers over 2,000 and it is rumored to have over 100 LAATs in the hangar decks.”  Pell merely nodded and Core continued speaking.  “I’ll find out the particulars, of course, but what do you think us common grunts will do on a ship?”

“LAATs,” answered Pell succinctly, a wry smile curling one side of his lips.

Core laughed at himself.  “Of course, ground-pounders as usual, just traveling in style.”

Boil, had decided to walk with them though he hadn’t said anything, simply listening as they discussed the General’s announcement.  Occasionally he’d nod as well, or interject an open question that kept Core talking.  

He and Waxer had heard the heavy gunner’s scornful words - ‘an entire nest of them’.  He had turned toward his partner to see Waxer raise an eyebrow and tilt his eyes towards the crowded table.  Boil, curious about an entire next of… what, had given a tiny nod.

Jester led them, moving down the corridors with purpose firm in his stride.  Ori and Kad followed behind, almost close enough to step on his heel with Thirteen right behind them.  The other two troopers simply moved to keep with the squad, saying nothing as they followed while their senior, Coop, was beside Jester.

“Jester,” Coop said in a voice that was as close as a clone got to whining, “We need to meet Sergeant Wooley at the gym for drills in ten.”

“This won’t take long, Coop,” Jester replied grimly.  “And it will take care of everything.”

Take care of everything?  To Boil, that sounded as if this was a problem of long-standing

“What is so…”

Jester halted so abruptly as he turned a corner that Kad did run into him, pushing him slightly forward.

“Troopers,” drawled the calm voice of their new Jedi general.  The entire squad as well as Boil, still around the corner and not in sight of the general or commander, came to attention.  Boil could see the squad and the arm of a clone, presumably the commander.

Boil moved slightly until General Kenobi and Commander Cody were in his view.  He wanted to see expressions and it would be worth a stern look or demerit from command.

They ignored his small movements, focusing on Jester.

Jester gave a quick nod then saluted as if they were all on the parade ground.  “General Kenobi, Commander Cody; I want to be transferred, sir,” he said with no preamble.  “As soon as possible.”

Jester paused, his lips tight.  Commander Cody gave an indrawn breath and quick wince of pain.  The Jedi General had a suddenly solemn expression.  Jester gave another, tiny nod as if he’d just finished a debate and was confident of his actions.  “I didn’t realize the range of effect that my presence would have on the 212th.  I didn’t take certain things into consideration when I asked to remain.”  He paused, then spoke in a softer voice.  “It’s best if I go, sir.  I am sorry, I never meant...”

“Does this mean you’re giving up, CT-4646?”  The commander’s voice was firm though Boil heard sympathy as well.  “I thought we clones were engineered to never surrender.”  Commander Cody turned to Kad.  “Should I transfer this trooper to another company?”

Kad pressed his lips together at Cody’s question.  “He is a…” Kad paused then changed his words.  “He is not a good trooper, sir.  That is my firm belief and I am currently searching for sufficient evidence to prove my accusation to sergeant’s satisfaction.  However, if he is transferred to another company there is the possibility that the troopers in that company won’t be as diligent or thorough in searching his records or watching his actions.”  Kad spoke slowly, deliberating over every word.  “Because they didn’t experience…”  

Commander Cody tensed, his lips tightened and his eyes narrow into slits.  The general’s expression went pensive and he glanced at the commander as though more concerned for him than the trooper being questioned.

Kad paled.  “Anything,” he finished after a moment’s thought.

Commander Cody gave General Kenobi a questioning glanced and it was the general who turned to Thirteen.  “What about you, trooper?  Do you think CT-4646 should be transferred to another company?”

Thirteen tilted his head, nervous in front of the commander and being asked a question by their new general.  Boil could see he had no more idea than Boil of what Kad referred to.  He swallowed softly and licked his lower lip.  “I believe Jester, CT 4646,” he added for General Kenobi’s benefit with a nervous nod at the Jedi though Kenobi obviously knew, “is one of the best troopers in the 212th.  He is observant and always provides good ideas and thoughts to Sergeant Wooley through open channels so we all know what he’s thinking about the situation.”  Thirteen paused and tilted his head slightly.  “If you transfer him,sir, I think I might like to go along.”

Jester turned his head momentarily to the rookie; amazed hope dawning in his expression then quickly back to Commander Cody.  

Boil was sure Thirteen had missed Jester’s expression but it was an interesting expression; as if just realizing his back was covered.

Commander Cody nodded at Ori, also directly behind Jester.

Ori spoke slowly and avoided looking at Kad.  “While I do believe CT-4646 to be of questionable…”  He also paused and, after a moment, he launched into a different tact.  “I have seen no actions of his that are consistent or demonstrative of what I would consider unequivocal…”  Like Kad, he paused then continued, “evidence or even actions detrimental to any trooper.  What I have seen,” he emphasized the word, “is a trooper who is very careful of all the regulations and appears.” Again he emphasized the word, “to care a great deal about his squad.”

Commander Cody glanced at Coop, then the four remaining troopers of the squad.  They glanced down at the floor, then gave a tiny shrug of one shoulder.  Doesn’t matter, not concerned, either choice, your decision.

“Transfer denied.”  Commander Cody seemed about to say something else but only shook his head with a sad expression.

**\----------**

**  
**Boil chuckled.  “What’s that saying Inspector Divo is so fond of?  Where you find bantha poodoo, you’ll find a bantha.”

“It’s all rumors, so many rumors, and the best was almost blasphemous.”  Waxer got a frown on his face.  “They were all talking around treason,” he looked around as if they weren’t in the privacy of their barracks.  “Not one of them used that word, though.  Almost as if it’s been stricken from their vocabulary.  ‘Jester was there when the armory blew up.’  ‘Jester was there when the droids attacked.’  ‘Jester was there when Ventress showed up.’  Some of them are saying things like, ‘I’ve always suspected him of more funny business than his humor.’ and ‘He and Three-quarter shabuir had more demerits and punishment duty than the entire rest of the company.’  Funny thing though, none of them can remember what Jester and this other trooper did to get the demerits and punishment detail.”

“Treason,” Boil nodded.  “That was the first word that popped into my head when Kad spoke and, like you noticed, that word was never voiced aloud.  So evident by its omission.  We keep our eyes open,” Boil shrugged.  “Like we always do.”  He paused, setting out tomorrow’s bodysuit.  “But if he was a traitor, why would he ask to be transferred?”

Waxer shrugged then tossed out a possibility.  “Because he’s been discovered?”

“No, he hasn’t been discovered.  Kad has been given permission to search for evidence by his sergeant.  It has been condoned by command.  And, he hasn’t found anything.  Neither has his partner.”

Waxer thought for a moment, worrying his lower lip then nodded.  “Because it’s hard to live with brothers who don’t trust you.”

Boil nodded then grinned.  “So a little mystery for us to solve.”

Waxer laughed.  “We wouldn’t be the best otherwise.” **  
**


End file.
